If home is where the heart is, then we're fucked
by derevosky
Summary: When America couldn't handle the world, he thought he could handle a day-off, but boy, he was wrong. Canonverse!America meets Humanverse!Russia
1. The United States of America

A nation's life could be tiring on daily basis, but if there wasn't much of a big deal on national standards, they'd simply stroll in their cities, and maybe interact with few people, so they could learn more about them, well, themselves. A nation _is_ the embodiment of the country's people, after all.

Except, America didn't have that luxury. He _is_ a superpower nation wherein everything was a big deal, even if it didn't concern his country. He _is_ a hero, as he'd say. Although, helping other countries had him exhausted, and he was still worried for them. He was getting envious that other countries had time to wander in their respective cities, or even the small towns. Germany told him stories, or rather vent for a while, about how North Italy seemed to flirt with his people. "I guess that's just his way of knowing his people." Germany commented, or tried to convince himself. America was glad that his fellow nations were comfortable enough to share their stories from time to time.

He heard from England, or Canada, (he wasn't really sure thanks to the workload occupying his mind) that France took a girl to a tour in Paris, even telling her historical facts and whatnot. Either of them noted that France thought she was Jeanne d'Arc, or someone of his history as he told them. He was happy for that girl who was now living peacefully; it was somehow inspiring to America. Even when _Davi-_ , er, they had forgotten about him, he'd like to know that his heroes, his people, wound up living a good life today. ' _It would be nice that those ordinary people of the past would have the chance to be heroes.'_ He mused _._ So, he decided to take a break for the first time in many years of service. He knew he deserved it.

That night, America had "nothing" to do but walk along the streets, and observed his people. He went inside a café, and ordered a cup of coffee. When he got his order, he sat quietly on a chair outside. He sipped his coffee while taking in the scenery. The city was lively as usual, thanks to its neon lights, and vibrant noises from his people. The movie theater in front of him was full of lanes to the ticket booths, while some cars near the establishment could violate at least one or two traffic laws as he'd assume, not that he'd mind. ' _The people are sure crazy for the premier, huh?_ ' He grab a stick out of his pack of cigarette, along with his lighter. He lit up the cigarette on his mouth; he took a drag, and as he was about to exhale it graciously, he coughed it thanks to a certain nation he didn't expect to see. The tall ashen blond looked furious as he approached the bespectacled blond. America didn't bother to read his face as he was about to interrogate the Russian man.

"Hey, Russia, what the hell are you doing here?!" America yelled, almost causing a scene thanks to his abrasive, high-pitched voice. Good thing, they were outside, and the noise he made was nothing compared to the crowd and the vehicles that surrounded them.

The tall man was bewildered, not really getting why the blond was shouting at him like that. "Uhm, yes, I am from Russia." He stated, annoyed by the lack of manners his companion showed. "What the hell am I doing here? I was looking for you the whole day, _Alfred_. Didn't you receive my texts? I even tried to call you at least forty times!" He said as his voice was getting louder in every word.

America realized he was indeed not talking to a nation, but a human who looked so much like his ex-rival. He noticed how different, and strikingly similar they were, from the shape of his face to his defined nose. He had dark blue eyes with a shade of gray that they seemed purple. They had the same hairstyle, the same complexion, and even the same built. It was no wonder the nation would mistake him as the embodiment of the Russian Federation. Although, he wasn't wearing a scarf, nor tried hiding his neck. He was wearing a maroon v-neck shirt, and America somehow found it odd for some reason.

"Oh, what's your name again?" He asked sheepishly.

"Are you serious about that? Oh, you are." He said, disappointed. "It's Ivan, in case you forgot because you kept giving me ridiculous nicknames." He deadpanned, and sighed. "I can't believe you. C'mon, we're late thanks to you. I think the movie was about to start. The people are starting to go inside." The ashen blond said impatiently as he walked towards the theater.

America was impressed by the way he talked; there was still a bit of the Russian accent, but it was charmingly American in a way. It was a weird mix, and somehow America find it cute, no, er, funny. He never thought he'd witness Russia, at least his doppelganger, talked like that.

He noticed the blond wasn't following him, and returned. "Well? Didn't you insist watching this movie with me or?" He said, still impatient, and America found it amusing on how this lookalike acted like his fellow nation. ' _So, does that mean Alfred looks like me? I haven't encountered anyone who looked like me in any century. This could be interesting._ ' He thought, he'd like to drop the act and tell him he's mistaken but-

"Yeah, yeah. Leggo." He gulped his lukewarm coffee in one shot, and pressed the used cigarette in an ashtray. He didn't really have anything to do this night except for stressing himself, so he headed towards the movie theater.

"Since when did you start smoking?" He asked, not that he mind; he knew Alfred always talked about smoking being a silly slow suicide, but today it seemed he got a change of heart. "And when did you get that jacket? It looks great on you." Ivan noted, and took America's hand on his own.

America flinched, "Uh, dude? Why are you holding my hand?" He felt his face getting warmer. He didn't really want to be touchy-touchy with Russians, particularly the nation one. Besides, not only they look alike, but also act alike.

"Can't I just hold my boyfriend's hand in peace? You _were_ late, you know. I feel like forgiving you because you look awesome tonight." Ivan pointed out, and hummed as he smiled like a child, and America found it weird that Russia, er, this Russian said 'awesome' in that weird Russian-American accent, if there was such a thing.

"Oh, _riiiiight_." He said, and he laughed weakly, flustered. He was kinda regretting his life choices.

When they got to the line, they were at the end, and the people were slowly getting inside thanks to a bit of pushing, and chaotic excitement. America mentally thanked Ivan for choosing a superhero movie, _Eaglemask_ specifically. Ivan gave their tickets, and proceeded. They still held hands, and America was bothered as Ivan gripped him tighter, leading the way as they walked inside the dark theater.

When they sat on their designated seats by the middle aisle, America took the chance to let go of Ivan's hand, and pretended to fix his glasses.

"Do you want popcorn? Coke? I brought vodka." He asked him with affection, took the chance to grace his boyfriend's hand.

"What? Why'd you brought vodka? No way, man." He whispered above his breath.

He pouted. "But, we always spike our drinks when we go to the movies." America swore this man was a child, just like Russia. Yet, his puppy eyes were effective thanks to the cute face he's making, it almost killed the nation inside. ' _No, I don't find him cute, pft_.'

He fought it but, "…Fine."

"Yay!" Ivan chirped, and America swore his seatmate _was_ Russia.

When the trailers were about to start, Ivan called the popcorn vendor, and he ordered four buckets since he's used to his boyfriend's appetite. Then, he ordered three large cups of coke since only three could occupy their cupholders. Their seatmates didn't seem to mind.

Ivan brought out his flask surreptitiously, and put vodka on their drinks. Now, America was curious to know more of Alfred, because why… why did he allow this kind of thing on a regular basis? He dismissed his thought, and watched the remaining trailers instead.

As the movie started, they were munching on their popcorns, and America was already done with his first bucket. He grabbed his second, while Ivan was still eating his own, and taking sips from the vodka-coke. America didn't think twice and drank his coke straight, and forgot that it has vodka. Then, it hit him thanks to the aftertaste. ' _Oh, fuck_.'

In broad daylight, the Russian villain caused a scene while maniacally laughing, the roads were broken thanks to his gigantic tank, and Eaglemask was there to save the day. The villain spewed his evil plan in a cringey Russian accent. Of course, what would be a superhero movie without those corny dialogue?

Ivan laughed, wiping his tears. "Oh gosh, they're so horrible!" He still couldn't stop laughing thanks to the crappy dialogue, and the horrible accent.

America was peeved by his reaction so he defended the movie. "What? No! It's actually an inspiring speech!"

"If you say so." Ivan snorted, exhaled from laughing, and took a sip of his drink.

Behind his secret identity, Eaglemask was Nathan Wright, a regularly bullied high-school student with no redeeming qualities, except for acing history classes. He was used to his life, and even as a superhero, he promised to himself that he'd be cool with it; that he won't lose his temper. Well, his superpowers were just flight; his superstrength was just something his ability could offer thanks to the logic of physics.

"An underdog, as usual." Ivan commented, as if mocking the American films, and America was almost pissed. ' _Come on, clichés are sometimes necessary! People may be used to it, but they still enjoy it, and this could teach kids a lesson about patience!_ '

The popular high-school girl, June McLaurin, waved at the protagonist, and he was pleasantly surprised. ' _She knows me?_ ' Nathan wanted to fly above the clouds, literally, and so he did, after school.

"Teenage hormones." Ivan giggled a little.

"Give him a break, it's the love of his life!" He defended, complete with hand gestures.

"You're really funny today, Alfred." He took the blond's comment as some kind of sarcastic remark, because it was their kind of humor. Of course America didn't know that, and he didn't notice how Ivan's arm wrapped around him.

It was revealed that June knew about Nathan's superhero identity; that's why she was acting friendly towards the protagonist. Nathan didn't know how to feel about it until June kissed him senseless.

America noticed how close Ivan got as he felt his seatmate's hand caressing his hair to his nape. He was leaning forward, about to kiss his boyfriend, and America laughed so obnoxiously loud they were shushed by others in the cinema. Ivan glared at him and retreated to his seat, and simply held hands with the blond, although tighter. America knew he was pissed despite his intoxicated state.

The girl, of course, became a damsel in distress, and it was up to Eaglemask to save her. The Russian villain reappeared, and revealed his plan to terrorize the city. After some series of lame fight scenes, Eaglemask won, and get to kiss the girl.

When the credits were rolling, Ivan took long sips of both of their drinks, stood up coldly, and walked in large strides while America barely followed him thanks to the crowd, and his throbbing head. He was glad that his companion was tall enough to be seen in the sea of people.

When they got outside the theater, Ivan still walked briskly, and headed to his SUV by the establishment. He unlocked the doors, and America awkwardly rode shotgun. Ivan didn't start the car yet, because he was visibly fuming.

"What is wrong with you?! First, I couldn't contact you. Second, you shouted at me for who knows why, and third, you humiliated me!" He said, exasperated, more so seeing his boyfriend play dumb. "Какого хрена ты тут вытворяешь?! Почему так поступаешь со мной?" He muttered with enough volume to express his frustration, his brows furrowed while he glowered at the blond.

' _Okay, I had no idea what he's saying but, damn, I think I fucked up big time_.' America scratched his head, a bit guilty, and tried to face the ashen blond. He placed his hand on his shoulder.

"I-I, I'm sorry man. I'm just, kinda stressed with what's happening to the world." He said rather sincerely. Well, it is true. That's why he's here.

"You are?" He said, still trying to be indignant. "That's quite out of character?" He noted. "I mean, how thoughtful of you." His eyes soften a bit. "But, that doesn't mean you had to treat me like shit." He glared once again as he tapped his hand off his shoulder.

"I, uh, dude. I'm really sorry! Let me make up to you."

"You didn't even laugh with me."

"C'mon. I did!" He did but before he knew it wasn't a good answer, Ivan's face scrunched.

"But you made a fool out of me!" Ivan retorted as he remembered the embarrassing scenario.

"I'm sorry," He said with raised hands. "It was a really bad timing. I wasn't really in the mood."

"Why? You're suddenly concerned for the world, or something? What a lame excuse." He was visibly angry, although, it was America's turn to be offended.

"Hey! First of all, I _am_ very stressed with what's happening to the world." He snapped. "For the first time, I felt tired, sick of helping others while I still need to fix myself! But nooo, I'm still fucking worried for others, and I'm still paranoid that somehow they'll leave me because they got what they want from me. And, my boss is really annoying but I have no choice. Like, I don't fucking need another cold war with North Korea, and China has been really annoying lately. Philippines' boss somehow hates me, and somehow became buddies with Russia, like, what the fuck? I thought he loves me? How even dare he, that wannabe Asian." He ranted, and Ivan barely followed his words as they were getting faster. "Oh, and the hurricane. It's such a lovely timing! The economic growth will stay stuck in the low 2% range. Goddamn, perfect. And for some reason, I'm worried for Cuba, like, wow, Cuba? And, don't even start with me with Mexico." He said, his voice raising. "And, and, the crime rates are getting higher here I don't even want to fucking know why. I'm kinda considering England, and, and Europe in the travel ban. But no, it's just my people's idea. No wait, I _am_ my people. Oh gosh, I hate this so much."

Ivan was confused, and astonished. He was too surprised that his anger faded away. ' _Is he drunk?_ ' The Russian mused.

"Even my brother, Canada, had to mock me! I just want to achieve world peace, is that too much to ask?" He bawled, of course with hand gestures.

Ivan had enough of his boyfriend's rambling, and-

"Heck, I wished that the cold war didn't happen and we should have been- Oomf!" America was cut off, now aware of the hand on his back, and his mind barely registered that Ivan fucking grabbed and kissed him.

America, regrettably, responded to his kiss with his eyes closed, as Ivan glided his tongue on his bottom lip. His lips tasted like that vodka-coke they drank earlier, but the vodka was stronger, and somehow sweet. America subconsciously graced the man's head with his hand, ruffling a bit of his silver hair, and caressed his neck. Ivan leaned more thanks to the sensations, bumped his nose on his cheek, and that made America giggle as his breath was airy. The vibration encouraged Ivan to move his hands to the sides of his face, and slid his tongue inside his mouth. America yelped a bit, and tried to counter him by tracing his tongue, earning a moan from the flushed ashen blond. Ivan didn't really want to give in easily, so his hands travelled to his back, and licked his ear instead. America shivered, "Oh my fucking god." He held his breath while Ivan continued sucking his ear. America, of course, didn't want to lose, and leaned to his neck to suck which left enough hickeys.

The car was filled with sensual noises, a bit of rocking even it was turned off. Meanwhile, two people nearby approached the vehicle, the blond was worried while the taller one was chuckling.

On the inclined passenger seat, as they were grinding their crotches, about to undress each other, they were barely interrupted by a knock on the window until it was harder.

"Ugh, we're in the middle of- Oh fuck." America uttered while he was below Ivan who was still licking his nipples.

"Привет, America!" A familiar voice, muffled, from outside greeted.

"What the hell is going on?!" The blond, who looked so much like America, said bewildered, as he opened the door, good thing it was unlocked in the first place.

"Oh, hi Alfred." America waved awkwardly while his lookalike was still in shock.

"Huh?" Ivan stopped and looked at America, annoyed because of the interruption.

"Здравствуй, Vanya!" Russia sing-songed while Ivan became finally aware with his surroundings.

"Что за блять?" The Russian man couldn't believe his eyes. The man before him could be his doppelganger, because they look so much alike that they could trade places… wait. Alfred? No.

"Who the heck are you?!" Ivan jumped away from America, then stood outside with Alfred and Russia.

"I cannot believe you could do this, America! Do you miss me that much?" The tall nation joked which ticked off America.

"Wait, America? Is this some kind of joke?" Ivan interjected, and then looked at Russia. "Does this mean you're Russia?" He turned to America and said, "Is this why you called me Russia? Who the hell are you people?" He looked to the both of them, while Alfred was scratching his head. He was secretly amused by his boyfriend's reaction.

America had no clue how to handle this situation, especially seeing Russia amused like the little shit he is.

"Great. Fucking great."


	2. Alfred F Jones

A college student's life could be tiring on a daily basis, especially the thought of balancing studies, social life, and sleep, or even having a part-time job; although some even dare to have love lives. But if there wasn't much of a big project going on, or if it were a weekend, thankfully, they'd be chilling wherever they want, playing video games, hanging out in bowling alleys or karaoke bars, maybe window-shopping, or actually shopping.

Fortunately for Alfred F. Jones, not minding much of the finals week, it was almost the semester break. He just couldn't wait to have dates with his one and only boyfriend, Ivan Braginsky, who was a young history professor in his university; and of course, Alfred couldn't help but confess his undying love to the Russian. It took almost a year to have him agree on their current relationship. Besides, Ivan found his positivity on things endearing. They had always been together ever since that day.

 **.**

In a dormitory near a university, students of different courses and batches would come and go. Some chirped about their requirements being done, while others groaned for their lack of sleep as there were more exams to come. Meanwhile, in a room on the third floor, Alfred's phone alarm was blasting Boney M's _Rasputin_. He snoozed it, and went back to sleep. It alarmed again, and this time he turned it off. The phone vibrated numerous times, and that piqued his attention. He checked the message as he squinted his eyes.

Messages **Ivan Braginsky-Jones**

Today 6:37 AM

Good morning, sunshine!)) Let's meet where we had our first date.) 16:00. Don't be late.

7:21 AM

вставай вставай!))

But do still sleep if you want to!

I just miss you.)

When Alfred read the texts, he sat straight with his eyes still on the screen, mindlessly took his glasses from the side of the pillow. He read it again, a giddy smile slowly forming on his face, and then he grabbed the pillow to squeeze because he was really feeling gay. He hurriedly went down from his top bunk, and went beside Matthew.

"Mattie, Mattie, Matto mah bro." He shook his roommate who was currently drooling in his sleep. The Canadian was grunting, and opened a half-lidded eye. "Look, look."

"What?" He said annoyed, his voice groggy.

Alfred showed his phone screen which was set on its highest brightness. Matthew squinted, barely even recognized the letters. Alfred didn't bother to wait for his roommate's reply. "He texted me first thing in the morning, and oh my fucking god, he's so cheesy?" He gushed; Matthew wasn't amused.

"Do you always have to wake me up just to tell me that?" Matthew complained, glaring, wherein in Alfred's perspective, squinting.

"You know he's a morning person." He stated.

"And that concerns me because?"

"Oh just shut up!" He said as he punched his shoulder playfully, still cheerful. "Ahhhh, I got a date this afternoon." He swore he's so fucking gay.

"I know, you two planned it here, and made out, on my bed, which is totally uncool, bro."

"My bad." He laughed sheepishly. He remembered how they sneaked in the dormitory by pretending Ivan was simply going to tutor him, because they didn't know where to make out that time. Closets weren't really a good choice, and Ivan's apartment was busy at that time thanks to his sisters preparing for their cousin Toris's arrival party. He was really excited for today because they'd be going somewhere far from the public eye.

And he wasn't aware that he said those out loud, earning another groan from the Canadian.

"Just let me sleep please." He covered himself with his blanket.

"Okay, Matt Willies. Anyway, I'm going to buy breakfast. Do you want anything?" He said, unfazed by the snobbish behavior his roommate showed.

He cringed at the horrible nickname. "Sleep. I need sleep." His words mumbled through the sheet, pleading.

"Fine. Don't say I didn't ask ya. Later!" He grabbed a hoodie, not bothering to change his pajamas with Pepe the frog pattern. He noticed that Arthur's bed was empty as well as Francis's; he recalled the Brit having a study session at Kiku's place, but the Frenchman was a different case, he assumed. He shrugged whatever thoughts that were forming, and went on his way. He slammed the door shut, paced through the corridors and took his phone to reply while he whistle the tune of _Korobeiniki_.

Messages **Ivan Braginsky-Jones**

Today 6:37 AM

Good morning, sunshine!)) Let's meet where we had our first date.) 16:00. Don't be late.

7:21 AM

вставай вставай!))

But do still sleep if you want to!

I just miss you.)

7:38 AM

Доброе утро, малыш 3 Okay. Don't worry, I won't be! ;)

I miss you too :*

As he hit send, he felt giddy. Ever since he had been dating Ivan, he became more adept and enamored with Russian stuff. With the help of his boyfriend, he learned a bit of their language, did most of their practices, and some of their superstitions like resisting the urge to pick a penny on the street, or knocking on wood (and beating Ivan at it), and became more of a heavy drinker. (Despite Ivan's protests regarding this, Alfred insisted on drinking as much as he can so they could drink together.)

Thanks to his knowledge and experiences, he and Ivan loved to mock the Russian stereotypes that were often demonstrated in American media. Ivan, as he could tell, had the same case as him. He was starting to act more "American" thanks to his influence. Because of the blond, Ivan became more open, losing a bit of the strained smile he usually wore. He had been more naturally cheerful ever since they had dated; but it didn't mean that he wasn't intimidating in his classes anymore. Admittedly, he had a habit of saying some of American expressions without hesitating, of course, with their accent, which earned a bit of comfort and some sort of camaraderie from the faculty. The two of them were with each other too much that somehow their mannerisms mixed up, and for him it was adorable. Their relationship, as he'd say, was lively and exciting.

His thoughts wavered as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished out the device and checked the notification.

 **Ivan Braginsky-Jones** 30s ago

Yay!

 **Ivan Braginsky-Jones** Just Now

Anyway, classes about to start. See you later!)

The blond giggled softly. ' _Aaaah, he_ _'_ _s so cute_. _I should have enrolled in a Saturday class_.' He didn't want to reply since he didn't want to disturb him as of now, so he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

When Alfred got to the convenience store, he bought a razor, a can of Dr. Pepper, two cups of instant noodles, and a bag of Doritos. _'Ah, college life_.'

"I knew you'd be buying junk again." A familiar voice said, just behind him.

He turned around to see his colleague. "Oh, hey Iggy! How's the studyin' so far?" He greeted his dormie while grabbing the plastic bag of his stuff.

"Please, for the last time, stop calling me that." He huffed, then continued to speak. "Well, so far so good that I'm returning to our flat. By the way, you should stop buying crisps for breakfast. You know it's unhealthy." The Brit complained as he furrowed his thick eyebrows.

He shrugged. "Eh, whatever. It's cheap. Besides, I got a date later so I'm kinda saving up."

"Oh, you're still dating that Russian man?"

"Ivan." He reminded, a bit peeved. "Bruh, how could you forget?"

"Just be careful, Jones." He leaned closer to whisper somewhat a conspiracy. "He could be a spy."

He waved his hand, shrugging the Englishman's statement. "Pfft, you've been watching too much spy movies."

"I'm just worried. Why would a teacher eagerly date a student?"

"Why would dating a student equate to spying?"

"Ugh, fine. Don't say I told you so." He put the microwavable fish and chips, and a can of Canada Dry on the counter, and quickly grabbed his wallet from his pocket. The cashier swiftly took the fish and chips and put it in the microwave oven.

"You're not my mom, Ignatius."

"Do you have to use that bloody middle name?" He grumbled as he paid, causing the bill to crumple a bit.

"You don't really look like an Arthur to me." He joked while the oven dinged; it added an effect to his punch line. It made Arthur close his eyes as his thick brows creased.

He glared, then composed himself by heaving a sigh. "By the way, have you seen Francis?" He said as he took what he bought, and paced his way to the tables and chairs outside.

"Didn't see him in the dorm yet." He said nonchalantly while he followed Arthur.

The Brit, as Alfred would say, became twice as grumpy. "That bloody ingrate!" He said while he dropped his plastic bag on the table.

"Why? What's up?" He asked while Arthur dragged the chair to sit.

He heaved another sigh, realizing he was talking to Alfred; he didn't really want his roommate to know about his confusing affair with the Frenchman, since they're all roommates. "Nothing. Anyway, ta-ta for now, I suppose." He took the plastic fork, and ate a bit of the breaded cream dory, muttering some words Alfred couldn't understand. ' _Huh._ _And he kept saying I should stop talking with my mouth full._ '

"'Kay, bye."

.

He headed back to his dorm, and his roommate was still asleep. He quietly settled on his study table, and prepared the meal he bought. He ate as quiet as possible, although Matthew was still stirring in his sleep thanks to the loud slurps from eating noodles. He opened his laptop, and started reviewing the lectures which he already knew by heart.

When he was done eating, he threw the scraps, and Matthew was still sleeping. When he was about to go to the bathroom, he heard the doorknob unlocking, and opened. Francis entered, his hair a bit messy, and his usually fresh face looked haggard.

"Yo, Francis!" He greeted, startling the other.

"Oh, Alfred! Well, what a surprise. It looks like you woke up early, am I right?"

"Yeah, I got a date at four!"

"This afternoon? Why would that be a reason for you to wake up early?"

"Well, I just, can't wait, ya know? The sem's almost over, and we'll have all the time of the world."

Francis chuckled a bit. He really woke up early because of that? "Ah, you're so adorable, Alfred."

"Hey, I'm taken." He acted defensively, although they both knew he was just joking.

"Eh, I already told you. You're not my type." He said, wearing his subtle sass on his face.

"Touché." He said, grinning a bit. "Anyway, what's going on? Why're you looking like you hadn't sleep or something?"

"Ah, finals week is hell week, my friend. And how come you're… relaxed? You're even going to a date this afternoon." Francis said, moping a little while creasing his perfectly shaped eyebrows, eyes still alive despite the bags underneath.

"Hehe, I studied beforehand. We planned this because we're gonna watch the premier of Eaglemask!" His voice couldn't contain the excitement; it wasn't because of its plot.

"You are sure hyped by the movie, no?"

"Nah, it's more of, being with Ivan and all." Yes, it was because he's excited to talk shit with his lover.

Francis couldn't resist so he pinched the American softly. "Gah! You're so cute. Ivan is a lucky man."

"Heh, more like I'm lucky to have him."

When Francis was about to say something, they heard a faint groan underneath a blanket, causing them to jump. They were both startled as the figure beneath the comforter moved, and now the two of them hugged each other, trembling a bit. When the person was revealed, they sighed in unison.

"Mattie, not cool!" Alfred complained, while Francis snorted.

"I guess the finals got you too, Matthieu?"

The disturbed blond squinted his eyes. "Please stop talking, you two."

"It's already ten, bro." The American informed.

"Too early." He grumbled as he retreated under his comforter.

Francis went by his side, soothing his Canadian roommate. "There, there." He cooed, while Alfred continued what he was about to do.

After he took a shower and did all things necessary to look nice while checking the social media in between his morning rituals; it was almost noon. He killed a bit more time by helping Francis with his studies by exchanging questions and answers, and a bit of memorization.

"Thank you so, so much, Alfred. I think they're starting to get in my head now." His accent slipping a bit, his form starting to get weary.

"No prob!" He grinned while holding out a thumbs up for a second. "Well, mind if you help me pick out what to wear?"

As if he got his beauty sleep, Francis was revitalized. "Sure, sure!"

After looking for some clothes to match, trying out even Francis's clothes, they had now decided that a navy polo shirt with tiny white polka dots, buttoned up and tucked-in, would match a tan pair of pants with its ends folded up a bit, donned along with a pair of white Vans. Francis almost insisted wearing a scarf, since it could compliment his attire more, but Alfred rejected by stating how warm the weather was. At last, he wore a silver watch given by his boyfriend, and checked himself in the mirror.

"Well, well, well! Look who's gonna give a certain Russian man a heart attack!"

"Hey!" He knocked on wood frantically.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist. 'Tis just a silly saying, Alfred!"

The American sighed, and beamed. He was certainly feeling gay for this. And as if the universe heard him, he felt his phone vibrated.

 **Ivan Braginsky-Jones** Just Now

I'm out now. Ready?)

He replied as quickly as he can, littering the message box with varying emojis. When he glanced at his phone's clock, it was already three in the afternoon. He grabbed his messenger bag, and paced throughout the dormitory.

.

Alfred was a bit early, arriving at 3:29PM, and he didn't mind strolling in the square. When he finally got to the park where they shared their first kiss, he saw his tall, handsome boyfriend's back, who seemed to be walking aimlessly. He was wearing a beige coat, a white scarf, and… _was he wearing some sort of military boots?_ The American just shrugged at his boyfriend's change of apparel, and took the chance to surprise him by kissing him on the lips. The Russian was clearly astonished.

"What? Surprised by how handsome I am?" Alfred grinned, still amused by the confused look he was receiving.

Clearing his throat, the Russian smiled a bit eerily and replied. "I did not know you could greet like me! I thought you found it weird." His accent was notably thicker.

"Why would I find it weird?" Alfred, as his tendency to get influenced, subconsciously copied his accent. He didn't notice the subtle change of expression in the Russian's face.

"Now, I have this urge to crush your bones again." He sing-songed as his face darkened.

The American chuckled. Oh, he dared to chuckle. "Pfft, someone's a bit kinky today, huh?"

"…do you want me to make your gums bleed?" The taller one threatened, while the other was unfazed.

"My pleasure, Vanya." He cupped his face, and proceeded to kiss his handsome boyfriend once again. While Alfred had been enjoying the moment with his eyes closed, the Russian didn't move for a while, then smiled. He played along with the American by wrapping his arms around him, and tried to return the intensity of his kiss. Alfred felt the other's cold lips more as he moaned a little, stifled it as he knew they were outside; he was being a decent member of the society. As they gradually stopped, Alfred looked at him contentedly, although concerned, while the Russian had this amused yet annoyed look.

"So, what's with the get up? Are you alright?" He said with worry across his face, while the Russian smiled more until the American touched his forehead. ' _He'_ _s cold_.'

He shook his head a little. " _Nyet, nyet_. I am fine."

"Okay, if you say so." His expression didn't change, still worried. "Just tell me if you're not feeling well, okay?" His hand then intertwined with his lover's affectionately, even kissing it, then still not letting it go.

They walked quietly under the trees until Alfred asked something that was bothering him since they had kissed. "Since when did you start smoking?"

The Russian was caught off-guard. "What is wrong with smoking, _vesnushki_?"

And it was Alfred's turn to be caught off-guard; he admittedly loved the new nickname. He knew that it meant freckles, which derived from words like cute, small, and their favorite season, spring; that it could also mean cute little spots that come out in spring. _Aaaand_ , he had said those things out loud.

The Russian uttered, "I- _Vau_." Alfred saw how the Russian's eyes gleamed for a while. He swore his eyes were more colorful; they were very violet.

He scratched his head, brushing off the embarrassment. "I- Well, isn't it?"

"Ты прав." He muttered, lowly. The feeling of appreciation resonated with that baritone voice. A faint pink slowly crept on his almost porcelain face. Alfred noticed how smoother the skin his boyfriend had.

"… _khorosho_." The American blushed, as he squeezed the Russian's hand tighter, trying to fight of the excessive excitement building in his chest and his pants. They continued walking while swaying hands.

"Anyway, you got the tickets, right?"

"What tickets?"

"The movie tickets. You know, for Eaglemask?"

The Russian stayed silent, apologizing by simply staring at him.

"Wh- I- …Ivan Vasilyevich Braginsky!" He shouted, his eyes at the seemingly surprised Russian. "I thought you're the one who's gonna buy. You volunteered!" He brushed his hair, and he looked at him again. "You know how fast the tickets sell out! Gosh, we had this planned for weeks!"

The Russian didn't say anything. He simply gazed with an uneasy smile, and Alfred couldn't help but stare as well, especially into those vibrant violet eyes. In that moment, his heart fluttered, and he just couldn't stay angry.

He sighed in defeat, his features softened, and slowly formed a gleaming smile. "Y'know what? It's not the end of the world. Don't worry, _snezhinka_. Let's just go on a picnic by our cliff instead! I mean, it's been a while." He grabbed his boyfriend's hand, leading to whatever he mentioned.

The Russian nodded, eyed at the back of the pacing young man in front of him while holding his hand, not really caring where they would go. It was a foreign yet familiar feeling, actually.

Out of his trance, he noticed Cyrillic signs scattered along with Latin ones. The place was as if a nod to Russian culture, seeing how there were even Russians scattered, not caring as if they're at their homeland. The Russian couldn't speak, while the American did most of the talking, or spazzing about his culture. They went inside a clothing store which sold fur coats, and alike. There were also few Tolstoy shirts with different designs. He said something along the lines of shopping for Russian clothes one day, wanting them to wear the same outfit, like a couple that they were.

He continued going on how Russian culture affected him, how it was so rich with life despite the variety, and how the Russian soul remained in everything they do. Alfred was passionately telling these things, and the Russian was blushing mad, trying to tug his scarf with his other hand, while Alfred still looked at the road, and sometimes at him. Every word Alfred spoke wringed into the Russian's battered heart. He was so amazed by how aware he was with his culture, and he felt so appreciated and adored. It was too much, that he felt his heart popped out. The blond was distracted checking out the streets lined with different vendors, from souvenirs to collectibles, and of course there were matryoshkas. While he talked to some of the vendors, the Russian adjusted his coat, especially his chest, and he felt that it was a bit wet. A slick sound could be heard but thankfully his companion managed to cover the noise. He then checked to see if they were stains but it was faint so far. He tried to fix his scarf to hide the wet stain.

"So, want something?" Alfred suddenly asked in the midst of the Russian's distress.

"None so far!" He exclaimed unintentionally, his smile strained. He casually tugged his scarf, and now whatever evidence was hidden.

"Dude, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"You're pale as fuck." He touched his face and he was as cold as before. "Maybe let's get something to eat?"

"Okay." He quickly replied.

The American guided him to a store, and took a basket, and began placing what he could see that seemed appetizing. There were rows of various Russian and Ukrainian food; kolbasas, pirozhkis, pies, napoleon cakes, and kartoshkas, each of them having variants. When they got to the aisle of beverages, the American quickly grabbed two bottles of cognac, and put it in their basket without hesitation; he even bought plastic cups. The Russian's smile was getting wider and wider as he was amused by the young man's choices, and being in this place. As they finally settled on what they bought, they left the store, and Alfred led the way.

As they walked faster through the crowd, they finally rode a bus. The Russian still had no clue to where they were going but decided to trust the American. When they were seated, Alfred leaned to lay his head on the Russian's shoulder. The Russian followed the gesture, and laid his head on the other. Unfortunately, they couldn't hold hands for they were carrying what they bought.

When they got to their destination, they walked to a quiet road of a humble town, and walked slower as it got steeper, and barer. Satisfied, they found a patch of grass with a log laid by a large rock. The Russian noticed a carving of letters "A + I" adorned with sketchy stars. Alfred sat on the trunk, followed by the tall ashen blond. They were a bit away from the edge of the cliff but they still had the luxury to see the urban horizon. The sun was almost setting, gracing the blue sky with red, giving a purple blur accompanied by little lights slowly budding from the buildings and skyscrapers. The Russian couldn't help but gape.

Alfred then grabbed the two bottles of cognac carefully out of the paper bag, and poured the rest of what they had bought. The Russian looked intently at the blond whose face was bathed in the setting sun's rays, busy opening some of the snack they had bought. He couldn't help smiling nostalgically, then frowned as if longing for something.

"What's wrong?" He asked while eating the chips noisily.

The Russian had an uncomfortable smile. "I… ничего."

"Ey, v chem delo?"

"... у меня сердце ёкает, когда я смотрю на тебя," He paused a little. "Подсолнушек."

"Woah, okay, uh, I just understood your heart and sunflower there. You know I'm still rusty with Russian, right?" He chuckled, but reverted to a pout as he remembered the frown his boyfriend just displayed. "What's the matter?" He squeezed his hand as the other was a little bit startled.

"Do not worry, Alfred. I was simply remembering something." He said as he looked at the darkening distance, still wearing that longing gaze on his face.

The blond leaned his head against the Russian's shoulder and softly said, "You miss Russia?"

He took a minute to think about what he had asked, and contemplatively answered. "Maybe so."

"Hey, don't worry. Your Christmas is near before you know it. I'll come with you so I could finally meet your family."

"Да, but you will probably get scared by my little sister. She might stab you since you're not part of family." He joked lightly, carelessly unaware of his casualness.

"You didn't tell me you have a sister? Didn't you say you were an only child or something?"

He shrugged, acting almost coolly. "Ah, my mistake. My cousin, rather."

"Are you telling me that we're gonna have dinner with your cousins as well?"

"I-"

"Look! Venus already showed up!"

The Russian was relieved that his companion became distracted, and it was a good distraction, too. "Да, and there is the Kozerog."

The American chuckled. "Psh, if you say so." He then grinned so widely, and kept snickering.

"Что?" The Russian was clearly lost.

Alfred still grinned. "Nothing. I just remembered when we used to argue about which word to use for Capricorn."

"Hmm?"

"And you threw a fit, and we didn't talk for days, I think."

"Ah, my bad. Well, it is still Kozerog."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's Kozerog."

"Ага."

"Yep."

They were comfortably silent, gazing at the stars. Alfred held his lover's hand and kissed it, his lips lingered for a while, and remained holding hands. The little warmth the American placed was still tingling a bit on the Russian's hand.

As the Russian wanted to divert whatever moment was forming, he took their snacks and drinks, and poured cognac on two plastic cups. He held out the pirozhki they bought to Alfred, while he took another one from the bag.

The two ate their pirozhkis, munching rather noisily but both are content, at least Alfred. The Russian was annoyed but didn't dwell as much.

"God, these never fail me!" He praised as he continued eating.

The Russian nodded. "I never expect it to be this good, given that it's in America."

"Yeah, good thing this country offer a lot of good stuff despite its... crappy system."

The Russian chuckled and continued eating. He listened intently to the blond as he began rambling about how "fucked up his country" was while effectively finishing all their food. The Russian added small commentaries as well, but he noticed how he almost got carried away as he began telling how they first met.

"Damn, that's so cool of Russia! I knew it. America couldn't stand a chance without Russia's help."

The Russian snorted and said, "Don't be so mean to yourse- your country. To be fair, America knows how to be resilient with hi- its youthful energy. America simply needed guidance since he was a new country back then. He grew rather fast."

"Who grew up fast?"

"I meant, America."

"Pssh, I thought America was a girl, don't ya think?" He joked.

"He- Sure is!" The Russian laughed loudly enough as his tears formed in the corner of his eyes.

"And I'm pretty sure Russia is a woman." He stated while the other was grinned darkly but revoked as Alfred added, "But yeah, regardless of gender, I'd make out with Russia."

The Russian stayed silent, staring. The other was still oblivious at the Russian's uneasiness. He began telling, discussing Russia so passionately. From history, culture, and traditions, he just couldn't help himself but claim that they deserved more love.

"Goddamn, I love Russia so much." He sighed with a dreamy look on his face, while the other was blushing as he tugged his scarf, hiding the pink hues evident on his face. The other leaned closer to the taller one. The Russian didn't dare to move.

Their faces were close, and the both of them knew what was going to happen. The Russian didn't like how he could see every freckle the young man before him had. He didn't like the way he closed his eyes, fluttering those blues along those beautiful lashes. He didn't like how careful he placed his hands on his cheeks. He didn't like how he could hear his heart beating wildly. He especially didn't like the way it popped out.

"…how did you even, I, what, wha?" His eyes were wide, not daring to breathe, though he tried to continue speaking, "Ivan… your heart…" He let go of his hand slowly amidst still in flabbergast, until his memories flooded for the odd nuances he didn't care to notice before. After he took enough courage to move, he tried to leave the stranger who looked awfully a lot like his boyfriend.

"Please!" The Russian shouted as took Alfred's hand, gripping it unintentionally tight that it made the blond wince. "I, let me explain." _I really enjoyed your company_.

"I, I don't need your explanation!" He said, with a slight of growl in his voice, and he became frantic as he realized something. He started rambling fast, "Dude! I- kissed you! I fucking kissed you! And we were almost gonna make out again, oh my fucking god, how even- you didn't even- who the fuck are you? What are you? Are you a doppelganger? How can you even-"

"I am not a doppelganger." His features suddenly sullen, while the other was miffed by the interruption.

"Well, why the fuck do you look like him?"

That made the Russian wonder, and pondered for a while. "I am not so sure as well."

"Then, uh, fuck! I'm going to find Ivan, and you, put that thing back in your chest, and stay the fuck away from me!"

He moved closer, tried to reach him out. "I, I would like to help you."

"No, no. Don't you dare follow me!"

The Russian had enough. He began chanting something Alfred couldn't decipher. His aura, yes he could actually fucking see his aura, turned darker as moments passed by. So the most sensible thing Alfred had done was-

To surrender. "Fine, fine! Sheesh, don't get creepy, bud." He distanced himself a bit while he checked for his bag.

The Russian blinked, and became excited. He watched as Alfred grabbed his bag, and dig for his phone while he put his heart back into his chest. Alfred shivered at the sound of the organ squeezing, but remained focused on finding his phone.

"Oh my fucking god, why was this on silent mode again- God dammit, Mattie!" He cursed his roommate as he read the messages and missed calls his boyfriend left him. "He even turned off the vibration! Of all days, it has to be-"

"What is the matter?"

He was startled, but didn't show it as much. "Nothing, I just. Ugh, let's go."

They walked back to the quiet path as the crickets serenaded the two, along with the faint howls and distant footsteps from the stray creatures. The moon shone enough for them to see the road. The silence was disturbing, at least to Alfred, while the Russian focused on walking, his boots clicking a bit.

"I didn't get your name, by the way." He dug his hands into his pockets, feeling uneasy for not holding the other's hand.

"I must warn you, then. I am not a normal being." His voice was deeper unlike the usual tenor voice he had.

Alfred tried to act undisturbed, yet he found the voice a bit intimidating. "Yeah, it's pretty obvious, big guy. Well, I'm up to it. You can be an alien for all I care. I mean, aliens are cool."

He ignored the boy's remark and instead introduced himself. "Very well, I am Rossiyskaya Federatsiya. You may call me Russia."

The American abruptly stopped walking; his eyes were wide open, and he wasn't even aware he held his breath. The words were few but it was enough to make his head throb; it was too much.

The man who called himself Russia continued his pace until he noticed the boy's stupor, and asked innocently, "Are you okay?"

Alfred shook his daze, and met Russia's amused stare. "Are you kidding me?"

He shrugged and said, "I would not lie to you."

"Pssh, you just did! You posed as my boyfriend!" He laughed dryly while the other smiled again that strange smile.

"I did no such thing. You kissed me first, remember? You simply assumed I was your lover." He grinned as he reminded, amused by the colorful range of the young man's reactions, seeing how it contorted into different expressions from trying to defend himself, to feeling guilty.

"I, shut it." He pouted, and asked, "Your name's really Russia? Like, Russia _Russia_?"

"Yes, I am who you love as you said so earlier."

"I was talking about the country!"

"Да, I am that country!" He said in a cheerful tone, and Alfred just couldn't believe this was happening.

"You're tripping balls." He remarked, and scratched his head.

"Not really? I don't see any balls around." He said, genuinely confused.

Alfred sighed, and just gave up arguing with this so-called nation. It's not that he wasn't believing him, heck, he literally put his heart in his chest like it's a normal thing to do. It was just surreal, and the concept of humanized country astounded him so much, and how he looked so much like his boyfriend. They started to walk again, going downhill.

As the night breeze graced their skin, the silence was deafening as Alfred couldn't hear anything but his heart pounding. So, he decided to entertain the nation and cleared his throat. "So, uh, Russia."

"Yes?"

"Your kind, how does it work, exactly?"

"As you had deducted, I had lived for over eight hundred years. I am what they call, an embodiment. I represent the people of my country."

"I was joking at that time." He puffed. "Aren't you supposed to be famous then? I don't really see you anywhere."

"We do not really seek for mass recognition. We simply maintain our culture, and we serve our bosses."

"Bosses?"

"Leaders. Presidents, prime ministers, emperors, and so."

"Oh, so your bosses are politicians?"

"You could say that."

"Why so?" He asked. "Wait, so you rebelled the Tsars?"

"It is complicated." He furrowed his brows, and grabbed his flask from his pocket. "I loved them so, but my heart is my people." He then took a shot of vodka.

The American watched him, tried breaking the ice a bit, and said, "The thing you put inside you is your people, huh?"

"I am speaking figuratively, Alfred."

"Just making sure." He joked, and feeling comfortable enough to talk to this nation. It just dawned to him how awesome this occurrence was, meeting the country you had been obsessing. He thought of what to ask, enthusiastic to know more. "Is it true that General Winter helped you?"

"Maybe."

"Wait, so he's real too?" His blue eyes sparkled, as Russia would say. But it was thanks to the lamp posts on the side of the road. There were now small homes scattered; they were already close.

"Yes, he helped me during the wars, although he seemed to enjoy _helping_ me in his own way." He said, and sighed.

"Oh, the harsh cold weather and all. I mean, gosh, sorry, that sucks."

"Do not worry. I am used to it!" He sure was cheerful for a nation who had been through much, Alfred noted.

"Actually, that's the thing I like about you! Er, uh, your country, I mean. Wow, this is confusing."

"I understand, Alfred. Do not fret." He giggled as he soothed the blond's back.

He laughed sheepishly, appreciated the touch he secretly craved. "Anyway, as I was saying, I really like how you just, don't give a fuck at the darnest things, like, I kinda practice that about you."

"Ah, well. That is flattering." He smiled at him, this time it was the most sincere Alfred had witnessed. He grinned back, and link his arms with Russia's. "You don't mind?"

He didn't really prefer being touched, at least by his fellow nations, but since it was his good friend, he gave a nod.

"So, since you were hanging around with your bosses and all that, what were the Tsars like? How did Boris Godunov, uh, pass away?"

Ivan glanced at him, and back on the road. "He was too heartbroken, but the history books dismissed it as suicide or assassination instead. They didn't know how we could get emotional over change."

Alfred stared intently at the violet eyes looking at nowhere. His brows were creased, and the blond noticed now how he tugged his scarf from time to time.

"As for the Tsars, they were endearing, yet the imbalance was not justified. Despite the fleeting happiness I had experienced with them, the hollow feeling in my stomach lingered, and so the hunger within me grew. I felt myself dying repeatedly because I was starving, even though I was eating quite a lot with them; they even complained how I ate like a pig." He chuckled for a second, and returned to his former demeanor. "It was then I decided to follow my heart. That I should not dwell for this injustice and emptiness."

Alfred observed him, absorbing everything he said. "Why communism though?"

"It was fair, at least I hoped so. I do not want my people to grow hungry and weary. And I really wanted the rest of the world to know, that we all deserve to live as old as humans could. I do not want, anyone, dying so young because, I could not provide. I did my best, even if someone, or even the world disagreed. But it took me years to realize, that life was never fair. That in the end, the overzealous and the greedy prevails; I admit I was one of them, too. So I resigned, and settled. I did not mean to get carried away, but I am a nation, protecting what I must. It is what we all do." He said, his head downwards, looking at every stray pebble that would catch his attention at every step they take. "It was fun though, being a superpower back then, even with someone like America." He kicked a stone, bounced, and rang.

Alfred thinned his lips, gripped Russia's arm tighter as a consoling gesture. "You did good, big guy." Silence grew for a short while. Then he asked curiously, "So, uh, what do you think of America?"

"Didn't I tell you enough earlier?" He noted, referring to their little discussion when they were stargazing earlier.

"Oh, so it's true you're mad at him, huh? I mean, at least that's what Ivan told me." His shoulders sagged.

Russia hummed thoughtfully. "You could say that. But not completely. He could be charming in his own ways sometimes."

The blond listened intently, leaning closer to the Russian. "Ooh, what does he look like?"

The nation laughed, earning confused looks from the blond. "He looked a lot like you, _vesnushki_."

He blushed at the nickname yet again but find a bit of composure; it dawned to him what he just said. "What, really? I look like the embodiment of the US of A?" He said bemused.

He laughed at the blond's expressive reaction. "Yes, that is why I stayed with you." He recklessly mumbled.

Alfred stared at him, boggled by his statement, and thoughts formed, "Dude, you have a crush on America?"

He was a bit perplexed by the question, and stuttered. "I used to."

"Oh my fucking god! You do, I knew it! You were, like, dating each other before, right?"

"How, how did you know?" The Russian distanced himself, his arms still linked with Alfred's.

Russia blinked as he swore Alfred squealed in excitement. "Pssh, didn't you hang out with humans as much? I mean, you're too obvious, bruh."

"I don't think so? Because if I were, he should have noticed that-" He paused and tried to think straight. "I believe I had told you too much."

When Alfred was about to press more about their relationship, they noticed they were already at the busy part of the town with the people scattered almost everywhere, and they were almost at the bus stop. "I'll get you to that later."

On their way to the movie theater, the bus was bustling with different scenarios, and they didn't mind. The two of them were talking about mundane things while Alfred called him Ivan. Alfred asked almost everything about Russian culture, and Russia was happy to answer everything.

They held hands throughout their journey, and hopped off to the stop near their destination. They walked towards the movie theater, and Alfred let go of his hand. Russia already missed the warmth of his friend, yet he respected his decision. He watched as the blond got his phone and tried contacting his lover at least four times, but there was no answer.

"Let's check the theater." He said, his energy seemed drained now, and paced towards the movie theater.

When they got to the entrance, the booths were already closed while the people were exiting. They looked out for a tall ashen blond, but found none. The blond heaved a sigh, and got his phone to click the same name all over again. Russia watched him, secretly entertained yet concerned for his friend. He then followed the blond who was on the way to somewhere.

"What are we looking for?" Russia asked.

"Just check out if you find a silver SUV with the plate number RXA 7412."

He nodded, and spotted the vehicle immediately. "There it is!"

"Woah, do you have some kind of supervision because you're a nation or something?"

"I am, not really sure. Maybe because your eyes are not good!"

"Geez, thanks."

"My pleasure!"

They continued approaching Ivan's vehicle, and noticed how it rocked rhythmically. Alfred grew worried, a lot of thoughts forming inside his head, while the other was amused. As they got closer, Alfred felt bursting, his knuckles clenched, and his teeth gritted. He just witnessed the love of his life grinding someone, while the other pleasantly returning the heat. He knocked, thinking it was locked, but didn't get any response. He knocked harder, with his face contorted.

Of course, Russia had to greet him. "Привет, America!"

Alfred couldn't take it anymore, and he opened the door forcefully. Good thing, it was already unlocked. "What the hell is going on?!"

"Oh, hi Alfred." The nation greeted, disheveled underneath Ivan, with his shirt unbuttoned. Alfred stared wide-eyed, not knowing what exactly what he'd do: punch, kick, or outright slaughter.

"Huh?" Ivan stopped, and looked at America, annoyed because of the interruption.

"Здравствуй, Vanya!" Russia sing-songed while Ivan became finally aware with his surroundings.

"Что за блять?" Ivan muttered while he looked at Russia, confused. The nation continued smiling at him eerily. Ivan then looked at America once again, and jumped off him. "Who the heck are you?!"

"I cannot believe you could do this, America! Do you miss me that much?" Russia joked which ticked off America. Alfred looked at him, bewildered.

"Wait, America? Is this some kind of joke?" Ivan interjected, and then looked at Russia. "Does this mean you're Russia?" He turned to America and said, "Is this why you called me Russia? Who the hell are you people?" He looked to the both of them, while Alfred was scratching his head. He was secretly amused by his boyfriend's reaction until he saw his hickeys scattered across his neck, and a few on his chest.

"Great. Fucking great." America stepped out of the SUV, wore his shirt, and grabbed his jacket. ' _I just want a day-off and this happens, goddammit_.' He didn't notice Alfred was already in front of him.

"Nice for you to finally hop off." Alfred said, and briskly took a punch into America's face. "Nobody. Marks. My. Boyfriend. Except. Me!" He stated every word with each punch to both sides of his face.

Ivan, despite his stupor, tried to stop his boyfriend from whoever this stranger was. He grabbed Alfred's arms while the other was still busy beating up America. He exerted a bit of his strength and whispered, "Solnishka, please calm down." His sunshine of a boyfriend wasn't really the type to lose temper so easily; he had mixed feelings of appreciation and fear regarding this violent outburst.

Russia whistled at the scene; he's impressed with his human friend. Although, his source of entertainment was cut short when Ivan finally stopped Alfred from hurting America further.

America laid down for a while, wheezed. "Well, damn, Alfred. You sure know how to punch." He noticed how Russia came along with his lookalike. "Did he teach you when you two were together or something?" He chuckled humorlessly, and barely stood up; he wiped off the blood from his nose. His head was getting numb. He then glared at his fellow nation. "So Russia, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to visit you. Is not that bad of a plan, да?" He hummed, his hands intertwined behind as he came close enough that their faces would almost touch.

He fixed his skewed glasses which did not break thanks to its status as Texas. "Yeah sure, you should've called me at least." He commented nonchalantly.

He distanced a little and shrugged. "I know you were busy, so I decided to surprise you."

"Yeah, you sure surprised me." He said sardonically while massaging the bridge of his nose.

Ivan watched the two nations forming some kind of tension, and cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt but, who are you people?"

The Russian nation acknowledge his fellowman, and quizzed him with his usual smile, "Who do you think we are, Vanya?"

His brows furrowed, and couldn't help but get snappy. "Well, either your parents are weirdos for naming their children after landmasses, or not because you don't really look like siblings."

The nation clapped as if he were entertained. "Bozhe, Vanya, you sound like America!" He noticed his fellow Russian's accent and found it hilarious.

"Don't even 'Vanya' me." He said raising his hands, crossed arms then gestured a bit by waving his hand. "Will you please stop that and just answer me decently?" Russia stopped poking.

Russia smiled at his straightforwardness. _He is truly my child_. He humored to himself, and finally answered, "I am the personification of Russia," He said as he placed his gloved hand on his chest, "and he is the United States." He pointed at the nation who seemed dizzy, massaging his head. "We are here for as long as our country has been."

He stared, trying to absorb the other just said. "Are you seriously fucking with me?"

Before Russia could answer jokingly, Alfred interjected, "Yeah, it's true, babe."

He looked at his boyfriend incredulously and questioned, "You seriously bought this, Alfred?"

"Hey! He kinda vented serious shit about them!"

"I don't understand why you're defending these lunatics."

"It kinda makes sense, you know, them existing. I mean, who could maintain culture like them? You know how fickle people can be. So, they're here to remind us who we are!"

"Well said, _vesnushki_." Russia remarked while America and Ivan were peeved by the nickname.

Ivan sighed then pouted and said, "I'm a history professor, Alfred. I can do the reminding. Heck, there's a reason why there is such thing as history."

"Oh yeah? Did you know the two of them were actually dating?" He stated smugly as he was just testing out the truth, and grinned thanks to their sudden reactions. The statement clearly surprised the professor, while the nations were busy fumbling their words.

"How- whadda- Russia? Did you tell him?!" He nudged his elbow, making Russia a bit annoyed but was more focused on how to answer his question.

Amidst his flustered state, the nation managed to speak. "I did no such thing." He said defensively, and slowly remembered something as he creased his brows. "Maybe. A little." His accent thicker.

He raised his arms, a bit flailing. "Dude! Not cool!" Russia noticed how the other was extra expressive tonight.

Ivan interrupted, "Okay, okay, you two dated, so whatever. But I still don't know how your existence could be necessary?"

"To be honest, I ask that myself sometimes." Russia said casually, earning uneasy looks from the others.

Saving the conversation, America explained eloquently, " _Anywaaaay_ , as Alfred said, we're here to make sure the people wouldn't fuck the world up, remain grounded and all. Besides, we have jobs that ensure that."

"Yeah, like what?" Ivan said, still not convinced.

"They try their best for the leaders not to fuck things up." Alfred added.

Ivan raised his brows and said, "Oh, you sure aren't good at your job."

Russia fucking laughed, as in burst out laughing, and America didn't take the comment too well. Alfred was applauding by Ivan's side.

"Stop laughing, Russia. There's a reason why I'm in America after all." Ivan said smoothly as Alfred clapped slowly, so proud of his boyfriend's savageness.

It was America's turn to laugh; it was booming, and quite annoying to listen to, but he didn't give a fuck. "Dude, I hated you at first, but now you're my favorite guy." He was about to pat his shoulder when Ivan took a step away.

"Please don't touch me." Ivan smiled an eerie smile while Alfred was snorting.

America was confused for a while, because he swore he heard Russia say that before. He sure was still drunk for this.

Ivan snickered out of the blue and muttered loud enough to Alfred, "I can't believe you punched the United States of America."

"Yeah, it felt fucking great! I kinda wanna do that for a long time!"

He chuckled. "Same!"

"I know, right?" Russia joined in, beaming at the two.

America sighed. "Guys, I'm right here."

"Pssh, sorry about that. I still love you, my homeland." Alfred said, and added, "My homie."

"Yooooooooooo!" They gave each other's high-fives while the two Russians watched by the sidelines, amused and cringing. _Americans_.

Russia interrupted their little shenanigans and said, "I think it is time to part ways."

Alfred whined, "No way, really?" He looked at Russia with a worried look on his face. "We're gonna talk again soon, right?"

"Sure, here is my number." Russia handed out his cellphone, revealing his number. "I trust you not to spread this information, hm? Please text me first, okay? I might be busy, or I might be asleep. You know how timezones work, little one?"

He retrieved the phone and copied the number as fast as he can. "Pssh, yeah of course! Thank you so much, Russia!" Alfred said, eagerly about to hug the nation, but Ivan held his hand. Alfred noticed his grip and whispered, "Oh, c'mon, I'm not gonna make out with him, Vanya, what the heckie."

"Just making sure." Ivan held his hand tighter, while Alfred just smirked.

"Yeah, tell that to yourself. I caught you on top of America. Ravish-"

America laughed awkwardly loud before the two could argue more. "Anyways, so that's kinda settled, right? You guys head home, and this guy and I will talk about some serious nation stuff." America said as he gestured to Russia.

"You sure about that?" Alfred waggled his eyebrows, earning unamused stares from the two nations.

America huffed, and stated in a fatherly tone, "Just, behave yourselves. And by the way, don't tell anyone about us. It's to save your asses from the people calling you crazy."

"Sure thing!" Alfred noted, and raised his thumbs up. America chuckled, and ruffled his hair.

"It was nice meeting you, Alfred." Russia said; a genuine smile reached his violet eyes. "And you, too, Vanya."

Ivan smiled, bowed a little, and spoke in Russian, "It was nice seeing you, my mothe- fatherland." He contemplated to reply and did so, "I missed you so."

Russia gazed at Ivan and spoke tenderly, "As do I. 'Til we meet again."

.

.

By the cliff, the smoke stained the air, as if painting the night sky with its ghostly hues. The small breeze helped, and silhouetted trees swayed slightly. The leaves creaked, while the meadows bristled each other. The two beings sat quietly on the grass to watch the stars glimmer above the lively neon lights. The tall one slouched, taking a drag; amongst the earth, there were cigarette butts scattered near his boots. The smaller of the two was persistently setting a spark at the end of his cigarette. It was the perfect match.

"Now, where were we?"


End file.
